


Video Killed the Radio Star

by RandomGuygoesviral



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Talent Swap (Dangan Ronpa), Boyfriends, F/M, Fluff, It's Saiibo my dudes, M/M, Slow Burn, Talent Swap - canon divergence, Tbh idk what i'm doing, i love these boys, saiibo, talent swap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 15:49:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15844464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomGuygoesviral/pseuds/RandomGuygoesviral
Summary: Kiibo Zetsub, or Kiibo IIdabashi, was the most famous Idol in Japan. He was a talented singer, dancer, and songwriter, who also represented those with albinism on a large salce. However, the performer was slowly burning out behind the scenes.Saihara Shuuichi was a well known photographer and reporter, praised for the work he put into every photo, and every article he took or wrote.He was no paparazzi either, just someone who cared about his craft.It wasn’t every day that Saihara got to photograph one of the world’s most popular celebrities. It was even less common, however, that he found out that they were suffering.





	1. Ambivalence

**Author's Note:**

> Sai wrote some more Saiibo. Imagine that. This idea has legitimately been floating int the back of my mind for an eternity, and I finally had the drive to actually write it. The relationship is going to be slow-burn. And I'm a mess and my gay ass demanded this.

Ambivalence: the idea of feeling two conflicting emotions simultaneously. That just about summed up Saihara Shuuichi’s current state. Incredibly nervous, but also overwhelmingly excited. He had butterflies in the pit of his stomach. Wouldn’t anyone feel that way when they’re about to meet someone insanely famous? Even if Saihara had met celebrities before… it was nothing to this caliber. 

Kiibo Zetsub.... Iidabashi Kiibo, the name felt like a cloud in his mind. Meeting him was one thing, photographing the idol… he was going to photograph him! That still felt… completely surreal. Completely surreal. He couldn’t even tell if he was more nervous or excited suddenly. It was stupid, he was used to photographing people, but this was different!

Saihara was famed for being so good at accommodating the needs of the people he photographed. No matter how fussy they were, or how rude they could be to him, Shuuichi always, always, listened to them. Brushing unkind words off with a pleasant “okay”. Ah… even if he felt horrible after. Which was a fairly common occurrence after shoots. Celebrities weren’t exactly as nice as some people claimed. 

Suddenly, Saihara’s thoughts were broken by the buzz of his studio door. He was there… or at least someone was. Sometimes producers or security came before the actual person. Saihara dreaded those times, as it often meant that the celebrity was… particularly rude or violent. 

“Ah!” he sounded, quickly rushing to the door from his green room, he was wasting someone’s time with being so caught up in thinking. 

Taking a breath, and putting on a pleasant and professional smile: Saihara swung open the door,” Hello! Welcome to the SS Photography Company. How may I help you?”  
It was the greeting he’d given his company, so in the photography world, it was recognisable as his. And… there he was- that- that was Kiibo, in the flesh. He didn’t look to be rude, or upset… through the idol did seem, tired. Yes, tired was a good word for it. Kiibo looked… tired.

“Hello,” the famous male said with an equally formal smile,” thank you for having me.”

“It’s my pleasure.” 

As casually as he could manage, Saihara guided the super star to the photography room. He was clearly as nervous as could be, and not in the cute sort of way. He- well, he was a mess. More or less. A mess that had to keep himself calm and composed enough to take high quality photos, because otherwise he would become a complete disgrace. 

“Well,” the navy haired male began, once he completed his camera setup,” This is just a normal shoot, so I wont do anything out of the ordinary. As well as that, I don’t operate strictly by my own hand. So I don’t at all mind changing up posing or backgrounds via your request. I… will ask you to change into one of three outfits however, whichever you like more. Of course: there is a dressing room,” he pointed to the room,” where the outfits are. Today’s an unlimited time slot, so you can take as long as you need.” 

Kiibo continued to wear a kind, yet worn, smile as he spoke,” Alright, Thank you so much Mister Saihara. Though… I hope that I don’t end up wasting your time at all!” 

With that, the musician stepped into the dressing room. That wasn’t exactly at the top of Saihara’s mind however. Wasting his time? No one ever wasted Saihara’s time, not matter how unpleasant the person was. His time couldn’t be waisted. He was much more worried about wasting the idols time. Not to mention: the photographer genuinely wasn’t used to a client being so kind to him. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting someone so well known to be so sweet. 

After about fifteen minutes, the Kiibo left the dressing room. He was in the last outfit Saihara (and one of his friends, who was much better at fashion then him) had made. He seemed happy with the outfit, of which Saihara was glad- it being his favourite out of the three. Though… he wasn’t meant to be biased.

The outfit was… pretty to say the least. While not exactly knowing the right words to describe it; he knew at least that much. A cool grey infinity scarf hung around Kiibo’s neck, a matching pair of glasses (they were useless, through it had been confirmed before hand that he’d be wearing contacts) resting on his nose. The outfit was much more complicated beyond that, however. The star wore a jumper in a gentle on the eyes tone of pastel blue. It was covered in cutsey designs and trinkets, ranging from simple pastel pins to the big violet “lovely” in print. A designer Saihara knew personally made it, he was fond of it. The pants were much more simple, a ripped pair of skinny jeans that matched the print, however the rips were filled with colourful lace. And the shoes were just the same as the jumper, featuring the cool grey in the soles. 

“You look… lovely,” Saihara joked, pointing at the logo on his shirt. He hadn’t said it from his own will- now his friend Kaito (a popular Youtube gamer that he collaborated with on merch and photos) owed him twenty five dollars. 

Though Kiibo actually… laughed? He laughed, it was an actual laugh. Kiibo had a really nice laugh… it was cute. Moreover: it was genuine. Why did such a stupid little joke make him laugh like that?

“Ha! That was good,” he smiled, segmented blue eyes shimmering with humor, he looked less tired like that.

Saihara couldn’t help himself, and he carefully took a nonchalant photo of the other males smiling face. Thankfully... he didn’t notice. 

“A-ah, anyways, we should probably start the actually session now.” Saihara mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Right,” Kiibo took a breath, smile dulling,” Of course! Thank you again for this opportunity.” 

Saihara flustered, still unaccustomed to being thanked for his service,” You’re… you’re very welcome. Through it’s really, really my pleasure to have you.” 

That’s when the photo shoot started, it was mostly simple, though there were points where Saihara had to trust his tripod and timing alone. It wasn’t easy being a photographer working completely alone. Purely using his own earnings and money from his parents in the spotlight. Kiibo through, he was shockingly kind. Once Saihara accidently hit him with a roll of streamers and he didn’t even get mad! Though near the end of the shoot… Saihara noticed that familiar look on Kiibo. He was tired… honestly he just about looked like he was going to pass out. 

“Ah… Iidabashi… let’s take a small break, alright?” once Saihara said that, he almost instantly noticed the pale idol sigh in relief. 

Saihara ran a hand through his hair, alright. He was going to ask something stupid. Like: completely stupid. It wasn’t something he had ever asked another client but… Kiibo truly looked like he was about to drop. Just how much had he been overworked? Of course Saihara knew the stories of how badly some idols or idol groups were treated and overworked. He had written many articles on the topic in the past. Seeing someone like that in person, however, it was much more real.  
“If you want, you can go rest in my apartment! I-I don’t mind!...” well… it was too late to take that back at that point. So he was just going to have to hope for the best.

“I… huh?” Kiibo hesitated, blinking slightly and tilting his head,” I… well I thank you for your hospitality… I’m not all that… ah, not that tired… so.”

Saihara knew that wasn’t true. The other male was sitting on the ground, stumbling over his words. He was exhausted, and it was so painfully clear. It wasn’t the photographers nature to argue with a client, unless it threatened his job not to. He was complacent. However… he couldn’t stay like that with this. Saihara felt obligated to help… for whatever reason. Perhaps they were friends in a past life. 

“I… Wouldn’t do this normally… but… I really insist. I want to help you. Please. It’s- It’s, you look like your about to drop. Not only would that be… bad, but I also can’t bare to see anyone like this… So, so please let me help!...” 

Kiibo seemed… hesitant. Whether that was from exhaustion or actual hesitance: he wasn’t really sure. He did know, however, that he himself was worried. And even if worry was a common thing from Saihara, he was… more so than normal.

The idol sighed, letting his head rest against his propped up hand,” I… I suppose… that if it’s just to be helpful… and just for a short while… then I will allow you to let me rest here… b-but, ah, I do think that I need some assistance… standing…” 

Simply put: Saihara half carried an actual idol out of his photography room. Out of his photography room, through the halls, and up a flight of stairs. Then he opened a door and… he was in his three room apartment, that was built off of his studio. He lived in the same place he worked, just like how he worked. Alone, usually. However, that somehow wasn’t even the most awkward part. 

“Um. My… bedroom is the door to the right of here… so…” he didn’t- he didn’t have a couch. Or chairs. In his apartment he lived rather like a starving artist. “Do you think that… you can get there without my assistance?...”

“Certainly!” the shorter male said before giving a slow blink and awkwardly sputtering out of Saihara’s grasp,” Er… yes. Thank you… a-again…” 

Within about… five minutes of that: he had an Idol sleeping in his bed. One of the most famous people… in all of Japan… was in his apartment. Sleeping in his bed! His bed! Kiibo Zetsub! Ahhhhhh.  
He… texted his designer friend, Kaede Akamatsu, from his kitchen table not long after that. 

You: Kaede Kaede Kaede help me, oh my god I’m gonna pass out on the floor.

Pattern Baka: was the shoot like,,, v bad?

You: Uhhhhh. No. But I’m literally going to die, Kaede help me--

Pattern Baka: ok???

You: So… Kiibo Zetsub.  
You: He’s really nice, just like everyone says.  
You: but…

Pattern Baka: but what? You cant just do me like this shu

You: He is… in my house. Sleeping on my bed. Literally: what am I supposed to do. I’m gonna pASS OUT ON MY FLOOR  
You: Help me-

Pattern Baka: WHAT AM I GONNA DO?  
Pattern Baka: UH… MORAL SUPPORT THRU TEXT!!! 

You: Ahhhhhhhh-


	2. Groak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Groak: To stare longingly at someone while they eat, hoping the ask you to join them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter didn't turn out as long as the first one, but I hope that that's alright with everyone.
> 
> As for a schedule (for this story at least) I'm going to attempt to get a chapter out every Wednesday, for the time being. That might eventually get longer. 
> 
> Also: Happy early birthday to out lovely Shuuichi Saihara! I'm working on a really big piece of art for it. Which you'll be able to find on my Tumblr (RandomGuyGoesViral) and my Instagram (Random.Guy.Goes.Viral) by the seventh.

It was… late. Well. Not exactly late, but it was past the time he’d have people over. Saihara was hungry, too. So: like a normal person, he made himself some food. Leftovers where still food, right? It was just… old rice and sesame chicken. Microwaved rice was never as good as freshly made stuff. Especially with his guilty pleasure of preferring white rice. He knew it wasn’t as good for him as other kinds of rice, but still. 

He… still couldn’t get his mind off of his… current situation. Obviously he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. Screaming at his friends certainly didn’t help, and neither did going through his older photos. That last thing usually calmed his nerves, but the poor photographer just wasn’t able to focus. Not on photos, not on his friends, not on anything. Everything just came back to him.

Kiibo Iidabashi. The famous idol that was asleep on his bed. Every thought circled back to him. What he was supposed to do. What was he supposed to do? Saihara wasn’t sure. He wasn’t ever going to be sure. Because honestly: had this ever happened before? Had anyone ever actually experienced this before? Saihara… somehow really doubted that.

He could hardly eat, he was getting a knot in his stomach. The male felt this… weight in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t quite anxiety, but it was… something. Something was something. Ah, his brain couldn’t even process something that simple. Fear maybe? Panic? Was this what… responsibility felt like? No, no. He was just further clouding his mind. It wasn’t good to think how he was.

Even so… he almost- couldn’t help it? He couldn’t help the nerves that tied knots in his stomach and tightened his chest. Saihara was not an assertive person, not most of the time at least. He was intuitive and persuasive, sure, but undoubtedly not assertive. His confidence wasn’t exactly high, despite the praise he often got. Not to mention his… overall anxiety. GAD to be exact. General Anxiety Disorder. Social anxiety was also present, but it was less of a plague. His anxiety often dictated his decisions, no matter how hard he attempted for that to not be reality. 

So… simply put, Saihara Shuuichi was a bit of a mess. A mess that could function, but a mess even still. It didn’t help that he was always more of a quiet person, and he had quite a subdued personality. Unlike his parents: he wasn’t a people person. That’s why he wrote about them, or took photos of them. Actual interaction was harder. 

When he focused back on reality… he realized something. Not just that he had hardly touched his food, both the chicken and rice. Also that- he felt like he was being watched. Of course, anxiety did that to him alot. Even when he was alone, he felt as through eyes were on him, burning into the back of his skull. The thing was: he could tell if it was just his mind forcing him to feel that way. This definitely felt more real than the manufactured feeling. 

That’s when Saihara turned, and what he saw was… a bit unexpected of course. A familiar looking short idol was in his doorway, staring at not Saihara but his… food. Right, it made perfect sense that he was hungry. It wasn’t an odd thing after sleeping for. Four hours. Four Hours?! He had an idol in his house for… four hours. Was he going to go to jail for that?

No, right. Topic at hand. Kiibo was staring at his food. Obviously: Kiibo wanted to eat. Before he panicked and booted the other male out of his house; the least Saihara could do was feed him. 

“Do- Do you w-want any of this?” Saihara questioned, gesturing to his food and mentally cursing the stutter. 

The idol perked up at the question,” While I’d prefer not to intrude… yes. Or any food, more accurately. If you do not mind, or course.”

“It’s… really no trouble. If you want to eat: go ahead. I don’t mind at all…” Saihara twisted off of his seat and grabbed a plate from his cabinet,” It isn’t exactly fancy… but it’s food.”

Kiibo offered an awkward bow before taking the plate. All of the next interaction was awkward however, so it didn’t exactly mean much. The idol held out his plate as Saihara moved some of his food over to it. The navy haired male then gave Kiibo a plastic… fork. They were much cheaper than disposable chopsticks and they were easy to use. Of course, the photographer wasn’t hurting for money. He was just rather cautious with it. 

“I’m sorry for how… um, simple all of this is,” came a mutter from Saihara as he picked at his rice. 

The idol -who was now sitting across from him- tilted his head slightly,” ah, it’s no trouble at all. Despite what people might think, most idols actually enjoy simplicity. It makes the flashy things we do on the daily much easier!”

He paused, processing this. Oh, alright then. They sat in silence for quite some time after that, though it wasn’t as awkward as either would have thought. A simple photographer and a famous idol, eating leftover fast food. It was almost surreal, in honesty. To both parties in fact. Kiibo would have never imagined being able to just, sit with a simple meal again. Saihara, well, he never imagined anything like this happening in general. 

Time passed and suddenly: a phone rang. It wasn’t Saihara’s, of course. It was, in fact, Kiibo’s. Because just as they finished a meal, of course the celebrity got a call. 

The white haired teen fumbled with the phone that was in his pocket (of the clothes from the shoot, of course),” Ah… I’m sorry… yes yes. I’m fully aware that I’ve been out for a while… Well. You said I had the full day for this shoot… I haven’t done anything wrong!... The photoshoot is just about finished. Thank you… yes… Good. Bye.”

Saihara didn’t catch most of the conversation. Say from knowing that the person on the other side wasn’t happy. Just from barely audible shouts and the flinch of Kiibo’s shoulders. Which didn’t seem right. To see the other male, famed for being positive, flinch. It also didn’t seem right to know that he was being yelled at through a speaker. The mistreatment of a performer wasn’t a thing to take lightly.

“I…” the golden eyed photographer hesitated,” I suppose you’ll have to leave soon… right?”

“Well… yes. This place and Harajuku in general. Unfortunately,” he seemed legitimately somber to be leaving,” This town is so pretty, and the style here is inspiring… but I have to go.”

“At least let me walk you out!” Saihara yelped as the other male stood,” Y-You need to get your clothing back anyways! Th-though you can keep this outfit a-anyways!” 

“Right, yeah.”

Saihara awkwardly twisted off of his chair and nervously fumbled over to his door. He held it open for the other male and mentally cursed himself for being so jittery. Soon enough, they were at the door of his studio, Kiibo changed into his clothing, the outfit he was given in a bag. Just like that, it was back to being professional and stiff. 

“Thank you again… for all of this,” Kiibo said with a bow, biting his pale lip.

“It was my pleasure. I’m glad that it was a… positive experience,” he returned the bow, a soft sigh escaping his lips. 

Kiibo sighed as well,” Yes… well. Goodbye Mister Saihara. I do hope that our paths cross once again.”

With that, the idol left. Getting into a indescreat white car before Saihara could even say goodbye. He drove off into the distance, and golden eyes followed until they were watching a miniscule dot, that dipped into traffic. And he was alone. It wasn’t as if Saihara was unused to being that way, but the way he was left was almost cold. Oh well, he could just get to work on photo editing… it would get his mind off of things. 

He wondered back into his studio, locking the door behind him. The male made his way up to his apartment, and into his room. Plopping down on the bed with a sigh, he curled up. Saihara… needed some time to recover. Not only had he completely over-exerted himself throughout the day: he was also extremely stressed. Then… of course, something else happened. As he shifted his navy hair to the side, he felt a crinkle of paper against his hand. Checking it: there was a slip of notebook paper.

It read: (xxx)-xxx-xxxx this… technically isn’t something I’m meant to do. However, just incase. Here. ~Kiibo.

Saihara shot up, so much for resting, and pulled his phone from his pocket. He hadn’t even managed to change: he was that legitimately tired. He called someone, and quietly waited for them to pick up.

“Hey, yeah, Momota? Would you mind me staying over with you tonight? I… know it’s short notice… but I can’t focus at home.”

His friends, Kaito especially, weren’t unused to Saihara requesting to stay with them. Despite what it seemed… he was very much the type to crave physical comfort. It was never done in a romantic way, but Saihara staying over was… sadly not uncommon. The photographer could get easily overwhelmed sometimes, and he just simply needed someone during those periods. 

“Yeah… thank you… I’ll be there in a bit…”


	3. Amaranthine:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaranthine: A dazzling red or purple hue

Now don’t get it wrong, there was nothing romantic about the situation whatsoever. Sometimes even the people who kept to themselves the most needed physical comfort. Clearly: Saihara was included in that “Sometimes”. So, he simply leaned against the body of his taller friend, head resting against the other’s shoulder. He shut his golden eyes gently and let out a long sigh. That did, in fact, signal to Kaito that something more than normal was up.  
After a fifteen minute car-ride and a three minute walk, Saihara was at Momota’s house. The house wasn’t anything all that special, really. Say from the fact that since Momota owned it of course, and as such it was… purple and white. Not lavender, purple. A bit of an eyesore, though he’d never say that to the gamers face.

Saihara tapped the doorbell on the front steps of the house. And… waited. He seemed to be at a loss of words recently. It wouldn’t shock him if Kaito noticed either instantly or not at all. The photographer was notoriously rather quiet, through there was a difference between quiet and wordless. Still, there wasn’t time to dwell. There was only time to wait. Or something, he wasn’t one for theatrics: even in his mind.

There was a shout from behind the door,” Hari is on my lap! The door is unlocked! Come on in, dude!”  
Hari was Kaito’s cat. He wasn’t exactly a cat person, but he was fond of making sure a newborn kitten didn’t die out in the wind and cold. One day he had called up Saihara, as well as Akamatsu and their friend Harukawa Maki, and told them that he had found three newborn kittens outside his house. Only one of them was actually alive, and he raised her up. That kitten was now the playful three year old confetti calico that was Hari. 

Anyways; Saihara carefully opened the door and saw Momota on his living room couch, a laptop and cat both on his lap. Tugging down the beanie he was wearing, the navy haired male shuffled in quietly. Kaito didn’t even look up, he simply patted the couch next to him. He was… a good friend, honestly, and Saihara was so extremely grateful to have met him at a promotional event.

The photographer simply moved over and plopped right next to him, curling up in himself after kicking his shoes off. Hari quickly moved over and curled up next to him. Sorry to Kaito, but cats could always sense cat people, and he was basically a dog in human form. He and Akamatsu were both that way, where Saihara and Harukawa were both more… cat like.

“Come’re,” Kaito mumbled nonchalantly, as he moved one arm to wrap it around Saihara.

The gamer tightened his grip on his smaller friend softly,” Talk to me, dude. As quiet as you are, I can tell when my friends are upset y'know.”

And… yeah. Saihara did know. He knew quite well. He had never been great with emotions; Momota however… was quite the opposite. Great with all things emotional, which is why Shuuichi had come to him in the first place. Of course, his friend was no guidance counselor. But… he helped. He really did. 

“Mn…” he hummed softly, hiding his face against Kaito’s shoulder and tiredly,” Something happened… I dunno what to make of it… it’s not like I’ve never met a celebrity before… today was- it was really different though. In a lot of ways. ‘M not sure what to do…”

The purple haired gamer paused, thinking for a moment,” It was… a shoot today right?... Kiibo Zetsub? Look man, I hope he wasn’t a jerk to you. That’d really suck. Someone known for bein’ nice harassing a nice photographer.”

Saihara shook his head slightly,” No… no it wasn’t anything like that. Don’t worry. I just,,, a lot happened other than the shoot…”

He had a famous idols number in his phone at that point. What was he mean to do with it? He couldn’t just… call someone like that! Could he get arrested for it? Gah, Saihara knew that Idol’s were very carefully watched over in legal terms. This could totally get him jailed, right? Or at least in huge trouble. Saihara just let out a soft whine and hid the entirety of his face against Kaito.

“I’m probably going to get in trouble…” he mumbled, voice quiet.

Honestly, he really needed this time. Just venting and such. It cleared his head, and despite Momota being the broiest bro of all time. He helped. A lot. He really did. 

“Why’d you say that, man?” The taller male questioned, pulling his friend closer with one arm and scrolling through YouTube with the other. Multitasking. 

The photographer bit his lip,” How can you tell if someone is flirting with you?”

Momota was, shocked by that question. Who wouldn’t be? Going from, I might be in trouble, to, someone is flirting with me, was a pretty big leap. Especially for someone as analytically minded as Shuuichi. It was an odd remark, to say the least. 

“Well, uh, I don’t know. You know I’m bad with that kinda stuff. Sure, I’ll talk about it, but I’m clueless, honestly,” Saihara knew that, but it didn’t hurt to ask- right?

“I’m a mess.”

“Sleep on it Saihara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to, Sai forgets to post the next chapter. Because it's filler and he had writers block and he feels bad. But seriously, as much as I love Saiibo, I want to give light to Saihara's other relationships as well. Also Kaito has a cat, because sure why not. 
> 
> (I still can't figure out how the heck to do bold, or italics on AO3. Rip)


	4. Aquiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aquiver- Quivering; trembling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow look at that! I managed to post on time today. Hopefully, me using the space bar instead of tab will show me indenting, Because I feel my writing is sloppy without it. I honestly just think it looks better, honestly.
> 
> It's also spooky month! Happy October everyone... even if it's already the third day of the month. Something that I'm all to aware of- because I'm an artist. Any other artist reading this probably knows what that means. Inktober, Baby! Or... more specifically Goretober for me. So- if chapters get a little wonky, drawing every day for 31 days is probably to blame.

After a day at Momota’s, just spending the time resting and sleeping, it became clear that it was going to be a rather stormy day. Which in turn, meant that Saihara would have to leave incase things flooded. He didn’t want to be trapped in Momota’s house for some unknown amount of time. Because as much as he cared about the gamer, he absolutely couldn’t cook. Not at all, not for the life of him. Unless you counted microwaving potstickers in a bowl of water so they boiled. Which was a thing Saihara had absolutely seen him do before. It was… horrifying.

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you back to your car, man?” asked Kaito (for the fifth time that morning).

Saihara sighed, a faint smile on his lips,” I told you, I’ve calmed down at this point, I’ll be fine Momota. Besides, I don’t want to get in the way of you filming. Don’t worry.”

The purple haired male wrapped him into a tight hug, mumbling something about staying safe. Saihara had grown used to the others protectiveness over time. In fact: he and Kaede often called themselves the “Saihara Shuuichi Protection Squad”. Which was completely and totally embarrassing- but oh gosh that was besides the point. He simply reciprocated the hug with a soft laugh. They had gotten to be touchy at that point in their friendship.

“Have a good day Momota. Don’t film too much before the thunder starts. Your room is soundproof for a reason,” the photographer pulled away from the hug and ran a hand through his hair to fix it.

The taller male got a big grin on his face, before rubbing the top of Saihara’s head,” Have a good day too, man!”

“Hey!”

“Oh come on, it was a little funny!”

With that, Saihara simply rolled his eyes and walked out with a wave. Even just walking outside, it was incredibly windy. As such, he was kind of glad he had declined Momota’s offer of an umbrella. Not that he needed one anyways, it wasn’t exactly raining. He simply hurried on home, all but jumping in his car when he got to it. Cold… he regretted not bringing a jacket. 

Getting into his house was a relief, as it really had started raining at that point. Not too hard, but it was hard enough to drench him by the time he got into his house. Curse his faulty keys. He really, really, needed to get new ones. Walking into his studio, he shook the water out of his hair like a dog. Ah, like any normal person- it wasn’t quite comfortable being drenched in rain water.

So, when he, finally, got to his actual apartment, he sort of… well he stripped down to his undergarments. He was cold, and could get A cold (or worse, hypothermia) if he didn’t change. If he were honest, he would rather not be sick on top of being stressed out like he had been recently. He didn’t want to shower, because he didn’t want to spend too much time in it. The power could also go out from the storm while he bathed… no, he wasn’t taking the risk. Saihara simply opted to change into a much more comfortable -and much warmer- clothing. Mn… he might even make some tea soon. 

But in the meantime… he had to change. He wasn’t quite the biggest fan of running around in what was basically his birthday suit. So… basically he threw on an oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. Comfy clothing was his goal with the two choices that… uh… really didn’t match. Like at all. Regardless, no one was going to see him, and the storm was picking up. Obviously, he wanted to stay warm.

A good way to do that was tea and some popcorn -of which he did enjoy. So that’s what he did. Adding the comfort of some tunes and something to doodle. He… wasn’t much of an artist, but he did find enjoyment on some simple sketching. Honestly, just relaxing like that was pleasant. It was a rather nice difference from how hectic everything had been recently. He sincerely enjoyed having time like this, where he could just chill. Even if low-fi wasn’t the best way to drown out thunder… he was content like he was. 

It went on like that for a while. Just Saihara, his tea, his music, and a sketchpad. Calm. It was like that for a while. It… was like that, in any case. Because at first, behind the sounds of the music playing, it just sounded like thunder. For a minute there… it really did. Crashes of thunder. He figured it was just the storm picking back up.

Until it became clear that… that wasn’t the case. That’s when the crying screams started. Storms didn’t make those sounds. Sounds of desperation and panic. Of course storms didn’t do anything like that… Storms didn’t sound like that… but people did. Who?... Who would that be, then?... Someone was caught out in the storm. Were they hurt? 

Saihara was naturally nervous, he had every right to be so in that situation. Because something was going on, it was still going on. Really, what if this person was hurt? Could Saihara really be the person to help them? He had to do something, didn’t he? His parents… his uncle had raised him to help people. His parents were greedy. His uncle helped people. So Saihara did too… naturally. Right?

Right. Okay. If someone was in pain, he- he /had/ to do something, right? He couldn’t just… not. Right? Setting his anxiety aside, the male with navy hair brushed himself off and let out a thin sigh. He was… scared. There was something deeply unsettling about this all. The male took a moment to dig through his things, trying to find something that would shield his once again warm body. Rain poncho. It was old, heck, it hardly fit, but it was something. Something that he would have to use.

With that, he took the long route, unsure. Through his studio he went, through the front office, and out the building door. He had a fire exit located in his apartment, but the stairs would have been to slick for him to walk down without getting hurt. Still, out he went, breath caught in his throat. It was… really bad out there. Even if he wasn’t getting too wet, cold nipped at his skin and wind lifted the edges of his clothing. No one with any sanity would be out in weather like that. It was unnerving, truly.

The photographer wrapped around his building, calling out for “the person who’s stuck out here”. Sure enough… there was someone out there. But… Saihara would have never expected who it was. Snow white hair drenched and dirty, skin and clothing cut in different places, blue eyes wide and fearful… his whole body was shaking. Who was he?... as if it wasn’t obvious.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Kiibo Iidabashi was in the alley behind his house, battered and bruised. He wasn’t a poised, prim, and proper idol. He looked like a terrified child, and so, so small. Seeing someone you looked up to looking like that.. It was a truly shaking experience. There was something even more so shaking, however. 

Because the moment the idol saw him, he sprung up and ran over to him… all but collapsing down before his feet. 

“Please-” spoke Kiibo, voice strained and desperate,” I had- I had no idea where to go. This area- p-place- I… It’s the only place I could remember how to get to. /Please/… please help me! I- god, oh god they want me d-dead!... I d-don’t know what to do! I- I’m sorry! But- sorry- I-”

At that point, Saihara was much more shocked than what he was willing to admit. Who? Who wanted him dead? Someone wanted Japan’s most famous idol dead? Had someone actually tried to assassinate the kindest celebrity Saihara had ever met? It was… a sickening thought. The idea of an assassination in general. It was completely gross. Just the idea of something like that happening. 

Something snapped in his mind, almost like some unseen force had given him the ability to know what to do,” can… you stand?” the male in front of him attempted to, before crashing down with a worldless shake of his head. “It won’t be comfortable, I’m sorry for that. But I’m going to carry you to my apartment, okay?”

It was almost as if he’d been possessed. There was no reason for him to be so level headed, calm and rational. He was someone with severe anxiety, this should have been killing him. For whatever reason through, it wasn’t. Saihara didn’t have much time to ponder, however, as he scooped the idol up into a bridal carry. Kiibo flinched, signaling silently that something had hurt. So Saihara shifted until he seemed okay. Then, with an idol in his arms, he walked back to the door of his studio. It was unlocked, and it slipped open easily. 

Eventually, they made it to his apartment. His calm demeanor was slipping slightly, and it made it increasingly difficult to carry another person. Saihara knew that he wasn’t going to get to his room, so he set the other male on his arm chair carefully. Kiibo let out a soft, figure shaking more than anyone the photographer had ever seen. That when he noticed the blood on his hands. And the blood on the idols stomach. Someone really /had/ tried to kill him.

“I’m getting my first-aid kit… I’ll be right back, okay?”

“O-okay… okay.”

So he grabbed the kit from his bathroom quicker than anything. It didn’t look like the male on his couch had been at risk of bleeding out, but he wouldn’t know. In any case, the state of his health certainly wasn’t okay either. Then Saihara was back in the living room, with an idol curled up on his arm chair. 

“You aren’t asleep… right?...”

“N-no.”

“Good… that’s good.”

If movies had taught him anything, it was that you shouldn’t let someone with a fresh, and probably serious, wound fall asleep. They could bleed out, or die, or something. Saihara didn’t want anything like that to happen. Even if he didn’t truly know Kiibo personally. As a fan, and a… generally caring person, he had to help. He would have helped anyone who was in that back alley. 

So he got to work. It was scary to try to help someone that… in the long run at least he knew so little about. Trying your best to patch up the wounds on the skin of a person, while he knew their songs by heart. More importantly, Saihara didn’t want to hurt the male that was in front of him. Bandaging someone as carefully as possible while not knowing anything about their actual body? Well it was hard to focus. To stay focus, and to not freak out every time Kiibo flinched. In the end though, it was a well done fix, the bandaging was strong enough.

In the end through… Kiibo still shivered. He was cold, and Saihara was a good four or five inches taller than him. Just about anything he owned, the idol would drown in. Other than maybe… no. No. Kaede would kill him. He couldn’t do anything like that! But… he had taken on a responsibility. Kiibo was shivering. So… so he had to help, right?

The idol was grasping for warmth in his damp clothes. It was a sad thing to watch, really. Naturally, Saihara didn’t like seeing anyone like that… he let out a long sigh.

“... I shouldn’t, but there are some clothes that may fit you in the changing rooms…”

Clothes made by Kaede, is what they were. And until Saihara could go out and about without shops being closed- they were the only things that had any chance of fitting Kiibo. Akamatsu would kill him if she found out, but as long as nothing happened to the outfits… she’d -hopefully- never know. It was stupid of him, but he was stupid sometimes. He didn’t think things all the way through sometimes. This was a time he did though. Helping… he had to. No doubt.

“W-would you… g-get them?” the idol stammered, shivering,” I… well… I don’t quite t-trust myself to walk s-so far…”

“Of course…” nodded Saihara.

So then it was off to his studio, and into the dressing rooms. No one was there but him, as he ran the building himself. There were some janitors on weekends, but it… wasn’t a weekend. The photographer walked into the male dressing room… it was cold. Was he going to have to get the air conditioning fixed? Nevermind, nevermind. It wasn’t the time for any of that. It wasn’t. Saihara bit down awkwardly on his lip, looking through the clothing he’d acquired from his friend over time. It was all bright and noticeable, as that was her style. But way in the back… he knew…

There it was! More than a few… uh… alternative people had been photographed to Saihara’s agency in the past. Not all of the clothes made for them were out of the normal or shocking. Plenty of them just wore knock-off band shirts and skinny jeans. There was one outfit, however, that wasn’t quite that, either. It was on the verge of a sort of “soft” feeling and a more edgy one. Boy band, the childish sort of member.

A grey sweater with white sleeves, and grey sweatpants that were made to be too long. The outfit had been sitting in the closet for eternity, collecting dust. Even if it wasn’t actually dusty, there was the slight smell of the mothballs that he kept in the dressing room closets. Because moths… oh they were pesky creatures. They didn’t hang around the well-kept studio, but it was better safe than sorry. 

Saihara grabbed up the outfit and took the walk back up to his apartment. Thoughts of anxiety and nervousness filled his mind, but he did his best to simply brush them off. It was… weird. He hadn’t been completely alone with his thoughts until that point. Carrying clothing back to the place he stayed was hardly a task, and it left him thinking. Thinking like that… God it sucked. It really sucked. Ideas of someone he barely knew, dead in his apartment made him uncomfortable. There was no reason that Kiibo would have died. Just the idea was insane and stupid. Still- he couldn’t stop his mind from thinking.

Finally through, he made it up. There was Kiibo, in the same place he had been- shivering but very much alive. The male turned his head quickly to look at Saihara, a pang of panic in his sectioned blue eyes. So he was really that on edge? Shuuichi could sympathize, he really could. 

“Sorry,” the photographer mumbled softly,” I should have announced myself when I walked in… I, um, didn’t mean to panic you.”

“No, no…” Kiibo breathed, forcing himself into a sitting position,” it’s okay… I should have f-figured that it was you…”

“I got you clothes…”

“I-I see that… Thank y-you…”

“You’re… welcome…” Saihara walked over and handed the shorter male the pile of clothing,” I’ll… leave you to change.”

With that, he skittered to his room, leaving Kiibo in the living room to change. Shuuichi couldn’t quite explain it- but everything felt oddly light when the idol said thank you. It was… obvious that he had a pleasant singing voice… but that wasn’t just something that sounded pleasant. It made his heart feel warm, and it made him feel slightly anxious.

What an adventure one simple photo shoot was turning out to be… oh jeez.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, the title is a song- but it's also true. I bet you didn't expect an assassination attempt. Yeah, that's where this story is going. As well as that, in this vaguely talent swapped au: this mystery assassin isn't too far off from something they could actually do.
> 
> There's also the first hint of a budding romance in this chapter. Nothing will happen for... a while- but it's there!


	5. Andronitis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andronitis- frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.

Did anyone have any idea how frustrating it was to pretend to be horrified when your phone was spammed by friends, telling you the idol you just photographed was dead? It was exponentially so. Because while he wasn’t horrified by the “death” of the idol… he was horrified about the current situation he was in. Since when it came down to is- Saihara wasn’t his parents. He was no actor, he could just… kind of lie. And even then, he was no good. It was easier to think it out over text, sure, but when someone called about a dead idol that was sitting next to him- it was… more difficult.

So Saihara wasn’t sure of what to do. Not really, at least. It was such an odd thing. Completely surreal, and totally odd. The fact that he, out of anyone, was stuck in the situation made it just that much more scary. How was anyone meant to react? Panic was natural, for something like this, right? What even was /this?! 

Kiibo was currently curled up in Shuuichi’s bed, safe, dry, and tucked under the covers. So… the photographer decided to make a call. His uncle was a member of a well known detective agency, a coroner and a post-mortem photographer, and as such… he had many tabs on great detectives. Well… Saihara was childhood “friends” with one of them. He had never really liked that person, but he couldn’t deny their genius. The problem was that for protective reasons, the detective he was referring to changed numbers often.

“Hey, yeah… I know the call is kinda out of nowhere… but a lot of stuff has happened recently, it’s kind of serious.” Shuuichi’s uncle was more of a father than his father had ever been, he truly felt bad for not talking more often. 

The older Saihara, without missing a beat, responded,” Shu, you know I always enjoy your calls. But… what’s up? You… sound sort of panicked.”

“That’s because I am.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” Shuuichi took a breath,” I… um, well… His number changed again. It’s only been like… six months since I got it. But, yeah, I kinda, uh, need it…”

“That’s no problem little guy! Just give me a few minutes!” clearly anxiety wasn’t something his uncle struggled with… usually. 

The golden eyed male let out a sigh,” Thank you so much, dad.”   
His uncle was his dad in all rights but legal and physical. While his father and mother both left him alone to film, his uncle was always there. 

“I love you, Shu.”

“I love you too…”

It took about three minutes for the man on the other end of the phone to find -his- number. Saihara was thankful that he had, really. There was not way that some photographer was going to try to find that damn detective. After about fifteen minutes of talking, his uncle eventually hung up. Of course, Shuuichi was glad to have the number… He was also glad he had gotten another chance to talk to the coroner, though. 

Ugh. He really didn’t want to call that jerk. He was going to kill him, plain and simple. The asshat didn’t even let down that tone of his over the phone. Saihara had every right to be annoyed. It wasn’t met to be rude… but that man was really just /insufferable/ to talk to.

Still… he had to, as the short jerk was the only one who would even possibly take him seriously.   
Letting out a grossly long sigh, Saihara typed the new number into his phone, calling it,” Pick up, you ass…”

He got his wish right as he swore however,” Awww~ It’s nice to see that you haven’t changed your dumb number Saiharaaa~... Why did you call me? Thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you…” he grumbled,” There’s an emergency, and you’re the only person on Earth who might, even possibly, believe me. So. Help.”

“That’s not very nice Saihara-Chan!”

There it was, that stupid name,” Shut. Up.”

“You know you love me.”

“You wish.”

“Nishi-shi-shi! Whatever~” completely joky… just like always.

“Cut the shit and help me [Ouma].”  
.  
.  
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Soon enough, the idol sleeping in his bed had awoken. It was weird, really weird. Saihara truly wouldn't ever completely be fine with this. Someone else staying in his bed, someone he barely knew. Putting that aside he decided- eggs. Sure, he’d make some simple eggs to eat, because that was about all he could manage that morning without burning himself. 

Kiibo awkwardly shimmied into the room just as Saihara was about done cooking. He was still in the clothing that Saihara had put him in after the males hectic arrival two days before. That was something he was going to have to fix, for certain. In fact, before he got too far ahead of himself, he was going to fix that. 

“Good morning…” the photographer hummed quietly, trying to keep his focus as he plated the sad breakfast. 

Kiibo stiffened, looking at the ground any toying with his boney fingers,” Good… morning Saihara… Um, how- how did you sleep?”

“Well, thank you.”

“That’s… good…”

“Mhmm.”

Saihara hated this all! He hated how awkward everything was. He was garbage at getting to know people- that’s why he lived alone in the first place. It wasn’t like he wanted to spend all the money it took to keep the building running. Moreover- it was crazy making how long it took to just… get comfortable talking to someone. Sure, yeah, things were bound to be awkward, especially in their situation. He knew that! Of course he did! It was just weird… because they needed to get used to each other, because everyone else in the world thought Kiibo was dead.

By that point, they were both quietly sat at Saihara’s counter-table top with a plate. It was incredibly uncomfortable as the two ate in silence. Just staring at the food in front of them, it was plainly hard to stay calm. They both wanted to talk, it was clear from how tense they were, how they both looked up ever so often. How every single second felt like an hour of agony. Still… they stayed silent until both of the two of them had finished. 

“Um- Kiibo…” it was odd to say his first name, but the shorter male had insisted. Said male looked up from a mop of white-blond hair. 

“Yes Saihara?”

“Would…” alright, he just had to take a breath and word this properly,” Do you think you’d be opposed to having me go out and buy you some clothing, and hair dye and stuff?... Because, well… I need to buy some essentials… and stuff. S-so… it’d be easy to get them. Do you- do you think you’ll be alright alone for now?”

Saihara hadn’t officially left his home in a day. Which wasn’t unlike him, but it was when he was so low on food. The thing was, he was itching to get out- but he had a sense that Kiibo didn’t want to stay alone for too long. So he waited for an answer, it made sense to him. That was- a normal thing, right?

Kiibo paused, pressing his lips together to form a thin line,” Yeah… yeah that’s fine… just… remember to lock up and stuff, okay?...”

The male nodded, assuring that he wasn’t going to take too terribly long. Trying to estimate the sizing for Kiibo was going to prove difficult, but he was going to try his best. Why not just ask? The simple answer was: anxiety. Even in this situation, it wasn’t really easy to ask something like that. So Saihara wasn’t going to.   
.  
.

Soon enough, Saihara was in the shopping centre not too far from his home. Most of it was clothing, sure, alternative fashion. A few places did sell food and overall well-being things. It was alright for his current goal, though. He was acting with a goal in mind, and as always: it made it much easier to operate. At least for him personally, it did. 

While the photographer was walking through a clothing store, a tall male with blue dyed hair ran into him. The impact knocked them both back and caused Saihara to tumble to the floor. Of course, the male with the dyed hair quickly helped him up before scurrying off. It was a rather weird experience overall, but he recovered and got over it quickly enough.   
.  
.  
“Having such light hair is… um… nice for this sort of thing…” mumbled an understandably embarrassed Kiibo, hair matted with a sort of strawberry blond hair dye.

Saihara had experience with box-dye. He went through… a period back in middle school where he had dyed his hair quite often. So, when Kiibo had mentioned the idea of dying his hair- Saihara was quickly on board. It wasn’t quite a perfect knowledge, but it was probably enough for Kiibo to seem like a natural strawberry blond. So it worked. 

Embarrasingly, Kiibo seemed to be rather sensitive phyically. Which made it rather awkward to attempt to dye his hair. Even slight tuggs could bring a reaction from the small male. Having to do things so gently made it- weird. Really really weird to do something such as that. 

So, clearly it was a bit tense. Difficult to focus on just one task. 

“Annnd… there. It says that it’s going to take about forty five minutes to take, but considering your natural colour- I’d just give it thirty.” 

Kiibo wringed his fingers and looked off to the side,” Ah, yeah… alright…”

Kiibo needed to look different enough from his idol-self to convince /him/ that he wasn’t, well, Kiibo. Not him as in Saihara, but him as in /him/. Knowing that jerk, it’d take a lot just to convince him that he’d never seen someone like that before. Kiibo’s eyes were going to be the biggest problem. Sectional heterochromia proved hard to cover up, even with coloured contacts. 

The gremlin was perfect at spotting lies, it didn’t help that the guy also managed a perfect poker face. As well as being a great liar himself.

This was a mess….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I'm almost a week late. But I /plan/ to post the next chapter on the 29th, or Kiibo's birthday. 
> 
> The biggest reason it ended up so late was... lack of motivation. I started a bunch of stuff and then I got sick.


	6. Um, Hi... atus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't wanna to this but ughhhh my motivation is dead.

So, yeah. I'm gonna go on about a month long Hiatus because a lot of shitty stuff is going on rn. 

I do hope yall understand, but my mental and physical health are down and a I'm burning out man--


End file.
